Interview with “Sweet” Romance Author Ruth J. Hartman

Ruth is a published writer, as well as a licensed dental hygienist. She and her husband of 29 years, Garry, live in a 100-year-old farmhouse. Two spoiled fat cats, Maxwell and Roxy, grudgingly allow Ruth and Garry to live in the house with them. She has written her memoir about living with severe OCD. Her hope is that the memoir will help others with OCD and depression. Ruth is known for her sweet romances full of humor, hoping to make people laugh and give them warm fuzzy feelings.

Hello Ruth. Welcome back to my blog. Please tell us about your book, Purrfect Voyage.

Purrfect Voyage started out as an idea for a short story and evolved from there. Arthur, the cat in the story, gets stranded on a ocean-bound yacht for two weeks with his owner, Kitty, and a stranger named George. George and Kitty have a hard time getting along at first, never having met, and having such different interests, but as the story moves along, they get closer. Let’s face it, two people would have a lot of time to talk and get to know each other stranded together for two weeks. Oh, and by the way, George hates cats!

Where did you get your inspiration for this novel?

Arthur, a nosy black cat, was modeled after all the cats I’ve had, personality-wise. His appearance and body language were taken from my black cat, Roxy.

A Reviewer said, “I have read thousands of books, most of them romance. But this is one that I will keep in my very small reread section.” This is the greatest compliment an author can receive. If a book is worth rereading, it’s worth buying. Tell us what you think about this review.

I loved this review! I was honored that she liked my book so much. You’re right when you said that’s the greatest compliment for an author. It made my day. ☺

What kind of research did you do for this book?

The yacht voyage takes place on the ocean between Alaska and Hawaii. I did some online research for the logistics, for example, was it possible to do that trip on a small yacht in two week’s time. Also, I wasn’t very familiar with yachts, so I did some research for that. And my sister and her husband have lived in Alaska for twenty years, so they were wonderful sources of information, too.

I enjoy learning about an author’s research. Thanks. I love it when authors add real life situations to their stories. Do you usually put real experiences in your books?

A lot of times, yes. Most of the time the heroine is somewhat based on me. Klutzy, sappy romantic with a goofy sense of humor. The heroes are usually based on my husband. Although for “Grin and Barrett” which was just released in August, that hero, Victor, started out as being way different from my other heroes. But he ended up much more like them as the book progressed.

Thank you, Ruth, for this wonderful interview. I absolutely love the excerpt from your book. When Kitty’s wayward cat by the name of Arthur jumps into a yacht chasing a mouse, she runs after it. After climbing into the boat, she believes Arthur has gone below deck. Read and enjoy, everyone! Here is what happens: 

Taking it slow, Kitty inched her way down the stairs. She tried a switch, but nothing happened. Deciding the small lever must have been for a purpose other than turning on a light, she continued on in the semi-darkness. Third step from the bottom, her foot hit the edge of the slick metal step. Her feet flew up, her head swan-dived down. Pain lanced across the back of her head as she thwacked it on the last step. Kitty groaned and rolled into a cat-like ball. As her world faded to black, she whispered, “Arthur, are you even down here?”

****

Art Katz carried two large cardboard boxes and a red duffel bag slung over his shoulder on board the yacht. Two weeks sailing and fishing. Unbelievable. He’d waited all year. Hoped to have formed gills by the time he reached his destination. He chuckled, remembering his dream from the previous night. He, of course, had been a fish. Salmon or halibut? He couldn’t remember. Not that it mattered. But no doubt about it; he’d been a fish.

Deciding to unpack later, he set to prepare the yacht, checking gauges and levels. After a short time, he headed out to sea. He’d spent enough time on this particular yacht to know its quirks. No doubt he could make the journey safely. But not everything in his life was so predictable. Like his business. He worked like a dog. Every weekend. Most evenings. But he still wasn’t making the money he wanted. His employees often called him a slave driver. But hey, you didn’t make money just sitting around.

He flipped open his cell phone.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Hi,” said John. “Thanks again for delivering my yacht. I still can’t believe your vacation coincided with my move. I owe ya, man.”

“You’d do the same for me. If I had a yacht. Or a place to put a yacht. Or money to buy a yacht.”

“Yeah, yeah. I hear ya.”

“I expect to be treated like a rock star when I get there.”

“You got it. See you when you get here, then.”

“Later.” Art closed his phone and put it in his jeans pocket.

John seemed to have it all. The lucrative medical practice. The beautiful wife and kids. Not that Art had time for the family part. He wasn’t like John. He didn’t have money stashed everywhere. He had to work. All the time. That’s why this trip was so special. He hardly ever left the office.

For the next several hours he sailed, admiring the whipping green waves and diving birds. Eagles and puffins splashed about, more often than not emerging with fishy treasures in their beaks. He envied them. He couldn’t wait to start fishing himself. Although, he’d be using a pole. He wasn’t crazy about biting into raw fish.

A soft sound floated up from below deck. He turned his head.

What?

A meow?

Perfect. All he needed was a stowaway cat for the next two weeks. He’d never been a fan of felines. Far from it. With their tiny, impaling claws and creepy purring sound, he’d been able to avoid most of them.

So far.

Ever since the incident. Putting the yacht on autopilot, he walked to the stairs. His hand reached to the light switch. Nothing. And of course, the light bulbs were in a cabinet downstairs. He sighed and made his way back to his duffel bag. Flashlight in hand, he cautiously made his way down the dimly lit stairway.